Devices of Evil
by GhastlyMiroku
Summary: When Shuichi struggles with a problem that could affect his career will Yuki help, or only trouble the young singer more? Can Yuki fix it? Does he want to? Extreme fluff with angsty undertones. Just the way we like it. Mild language. One Shot.


Disclaimer: Gravitation is the property of Maki Murakami. I was just really really angry one day and this sort of popped out of my brain. It wasn't intentional, I swear. I'm going to stare off into space now...

This is finally under my own name so, YAY!  Also, thanks to the few that reviews while it was posted under FlamingDuck! You know who you are! Many thanks! You made my day!

Thank you guys for talking the time to read my little old fan fiction. And I hope you all enjoy my piece of crazy fluffy goodness. (Well, sort of…)

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**Devices of Evil**

"Why won't it work?"

    Large eyes filled with salty tears as Shuichi shook the piece of machinery over his head in a rapid motion. He sat with his legs were tucked up, one under the other, on the large leather couch in the middle of the rather sparsely decorated apartment. The glass coffee table in front of him was pulled up to meet the black cushioning at his feet. While trying to fix his problem, Shuichi had flung all the Magazines onto the floor, lining the wood with Nittle Grasper images and Bad Luck interviews. The coffee table now held home to a thick book that one could fit into their pocket if so inclined and a large black tool box that appeared to weigh more than the young man himself. It was filled to the brim with wrenches, screwdrivers, large bottles of assorted nails and many other instruments Shuichi couldn't name. He hurriedly rushed through its contents, flinging them onto the couch, searching for something to help his plight, but it was to no avail.

    A large pair of ear-consuming blue headphones were meshed into pink hair as he forced out high pitched squeals at the offending object. Abandoning his search for tools, he picked up the powder blue atrocity. It was an object built for one purpose, to play compact discs. Unfortunately, it was failing at its task miserably as Shuichi repeatedly pressed the play button. A fresh tear graced the shiny surface as the small display showed no response to his pleas.

    Dejectedly, he ruffled through his pile of tools to find the manual that was lost in the debris and returned to reading through it for a second time. He was so engrossed in the terminology on the page that he didn't notice the form of his lover looming over him.

    Yuki, sporting black slacks and a blue button down shirt, had stopped mid-walk on his way to the kitchen when he spied something quite unusual in his peripheral vision. Shuichi was…reading? Now, it wasn't an uncommon thing for Shuichi to read. Yuki knew it could happen. There had been many times when Yuki sat in the very spot Shuichi was now residing, minding his own business and reading a novel while Shuichi cuddled into his side perusing the latest music news. He could also, regrettably, recall a few times when Shuichi reenacted his favorite battles from select manga titles for him while clutching the images to his chest as if the book would fly away.

    The thing that made Yuki's eyes slightly widen was _what_ Shuichi was reading. It was a product manual, something of use, something of value to the living world. And he was crying?

    Yuki tapped Shuichi on the shoulder causing the younger man to jump and toss the book into the air. Yuki caught it and examined the contents occasionally glancing at Shuichi, who was still crying.

    "Well, it doesn't really do anything for me, but if you get all depressed over battery life, that's up to you." He threw the book in Shuichi's face. "Cry away."

    "YUKI!" Shuichi sprang up and followed his lover into the kitchen. "You shouldn't throw things at me. It's not nice. What are you doing? Are you finished writing?"

    Yuki quickly refilled his coffee mug and skimmed the fridge for dinner. "What does it look like I'm doing? We need to go shopping. Why don't we order out?"

    "What do you want?" Shuichi's tears were dissipating as he wiped away the long drying trails of salt.

    "I don't care. You pick." Yuki casually ran his hand through Shuichi's disheveled locks before making a direct line to the office.

    "Yuki, could we-"

    "I have work to finish. I'm almost done with this chapter. Call me when dinner is here." The door to the study shut with a soft thud, once again leaving Shuichi to his own devices. But that was the problem, wasn't it? Shuichi's devices. His gaze, fell on the evil player carelessly shoved between couch cushions and couldn't suppress a long distraught sigh.

    The silence of the apartment coupled only with the soothing sound of the gentle taps of the keyboard calmed Yuki as he glided through the last pages of a rather intense chapter. The placid music was brought to a halt though, when the doorbell chimed signaling the arrival of the food. "Shuichi, get the food." The absence of sound from the living room prompted Yuki to roll his chair over to the door and lean out into the hallway.

    "Shuichi? The door." When another chime rang through the apartment, Yuki reluctantly stood up, kicking his chair forcefully back into the study, snatched his wallet from his jacket by the door and released his anger on the unsuspecting delivery boy. He had work to finish and Shuichi had been sitting on the couch. Why wasn't he answering the door? He was the one who ordered the food. After shoving the money in delivery boy's face and roughly yanking the food out of his hands, Yuki slammed the door, determined to yell at his idiot lover.

    He stormed past the living room at first, taking note of the man still sitting on the couch. After placing the boxes on the kitchen counter, he prepared for an onslaught of guilty tears and emotional clinginess. A small smirk formed on his face only to be trumped with an equally disturbing scowl.

    Shuichi was seated just as he was the first time Yuki had disturbed him with only a few changes. His hands rested peacefully on his knees and his eyes were closed giving him a serene, almost meditative appearance. His head and his toes on his right foot bobbed up and down slightly in a constant rhythm.

    'No doubt to the music that was destroying his eardrums,' Yuki thought as he shook his head.

    Shuichi's eyes remained closed as Yuki approached him and he didn't stir until he could feel Yuki's breath on his skin. His lips curled up in a goofy grin as Yuki briefly deposited a chaste kiss on his neck and then…

    Shuichi's eyes flew open as he felt something else besides lips on his skin and he pushed the tall blond roughly, tossing the headphones to the wind and clasping a hand around his throat. "Did you just…bite me?!"

    "Oh, so you noticed?"

    "Of course I noticed! What are you, a vampire?"

    Yuki glared at the young man, "I'm glad you recognized something was going on around you. Took you long enough."

    "Eh? What does that mean?" He scuttled after Yuki's retreating form and almost wanted to hit himself when he saw the boxes on the counter. "Oh, Yuki, I'm sorry. I –"

    "What were you listening to that kept you from answering the door? I was busy, you know." Yuki licked his fingers as he lobbed large amounts of rice and sushi onto his plate.

    "Oh, nothing." The energy which had supplanted itself into Shuichi's form deflated.

    "Nothing? Was it something for work?" Yuki grabbed his chopsticks and plate and sat down at the table to eat.

    "No, it was nothing." Shuichi echoed his previous statement.

    "Nothing?" Something in Shuichi's voice was off. "What do you mean by nothing?"

    "I mean just that," Shuichi took his seat on the opposite end of the table and took a bite, filling his mouth with rice, "Nothing was playing."

    Yuki had his chopsticks halfway to his mouth when that statement registered in his mind; the contents of which slopped back onto the plate, settling as if it had never been touched.

    "You were listening to…silence?" Shuichi nodded. "Nothing was playing." Another nod. "Nothing at all." Another very slow nod came from the mop of pink hair. Yuki's eye twitched. "So, why were you sitting there like that?"

    "Well, you see, I have to listen to these new arrangements that Fujisaki and Hiro came up with when I wasn't there last week and come up with the lyrics for the song lyrics by the end of the week and you told me before that I shouldn't use the big stereo because you like it quiet when you're working and I get that, so I tried to use my CD player but for some reason it won't play and I've been trying to get it to work but it won't no matter what I do." Shuichi stopped and stared at Yuki waiting for some acknowledgement.

    "But that doesn't explain why you were sitting in utter silence in the middle of the living room like you were meditating and tapping your foot to imaginary music," Yuki's voice steadily increased in volume.

    Taking note of Yuki's waning patience, Shuichi plunged forward. "I changed the batteries, that didn't work. I went through my assortment of headphones, none of them made a difference. So, I got the tools out of the closet and started looking for anything wrong with the way it was put together, which I didn't think was the case, since I've had it for years but I checked anyway and then I read the manual a few times. Finally, I did the only thing I could. I stopped pressing every button I could and followed what the manual said. I pressed play and waited for it to start."

    "So, you were waiting for the music to start when I interrupted you?"

    "Yes."

    "Why were you tapping your foot?"

    "Well, it got kind of boring, and I had a song stuck in my head from earlier in the day so I started thinking about that and-"

    "How long were you waiting?"

    "Ummmm, about twenty minutes."

    "…."

    "Yuki?"

    "Just eat your food." Yuki discarded his barren plate into the sink and pulled a beer from the 'fridge.

    "You're uncharacteristically hungry today." Shuichi commented.

    "Yeah, well you gotta eat sometime, and what about you? You're strangely more idiotic than usual, if that's even possible."

    "Hey, why do you say that?" Shuichi struggled through a mouth full of food.

    Yuki took a sip of his beer and tilted it towards his lover. "You're obsessing over a piece of junk that doesn't work."

    "I need that piece of junk! It's important!" Shuichi pointed his chopsticks at the writer furiously shaking them with each word out of his mouth, "Why didn't you ask what was wrong before? Why didn't you help me? You saw I was upset and you just shrugged it off as usual."

    "Why didn't you answer the door? Why didn't you get the food? You were just sitting there. I was working. I have a novel to write. I don't care why you were crying today. You're always crying. There's always something wrong with you and I don't have time to fix your trivial problems."

    "It's not a trivial problem! It means something to me! It's a part of my work! And my work is a part of me! That's like saying you don't care about ME!" Sobs choked Shuichi, preventing him from going any further as he slouched down into his chair lacking the strength to fight anymore.

    Unable to see how the pink-haired idiot jumped to that conclusion, Yuki ran his long fingers through his hair and sighed, regretting the words before they exited his lips. "Let me see it."

    "Huh?" Shuichi didn't know if he had heard right.

    "Let me see it."

    Shuichi bounded over the coffee table, captured the blue player and returned to Yuki within the span of ten seconds He held the contraption with both palms up, as if offering a gift to a god, eyes shimmering brightly. Yuki looked it over, taking note of every button, every crevice, every surface. He opened the casing to reveal Nittle Grasper's single 'Be There' staring back at him.

    "I thought that the player may have just hated the one disc and so I tried this one to see if it would be nice to it. It's always liked this CD."

    "What is it? A pet?" Yuki took out the disc and shoved it into the boy's hands. His eyes turned deadly serious and concentrated on a particular place on the inside of the casing. "Ah, I see."

    "What?" Shuichi's eyes lit up with excitement.

    "I have no clue." Yuki snapped the cover shut and threw the player at Shuichi, who clumsily scrambled to catch it. "Buy a new one."

    "Yuki!"

    "Stop whining, damn it!" Shuichi flinched under his lover's gaze. "What do you think I can do? You couldn't do anything and you know about all that music shit. What am I supposed to do? Pray?" Yuki turned and left his lover to stew in his own grief. He had better things to do than fight about inanimate objects.

    "Yuki?" A feeble voice crept through the doorway. Shuichi had silently opened the door a sliver and was attempting to shove his head through the small amount of space.

    Yuki adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses and continued typing. "What do you want?"

    Taking that as an invitation to enter, Shuichi bounded in the room and gently wrapped his hands around Yuki's shoulders and connected them, shrouding the blond in a Shuichi blanket. Though he didn't stop typing, Yuki was very interested in this new attitude adjustment. Shuichi wasn't speaking. He was just there, sharing a moment.

    "Yuki?" Shuichi whispered softly into Yuki's ear.

    "What?"

    "Could you?"

    "Could I what?"

    "Pray?" Moment lost.

    Out of all the things that Yuki thought Shuichi would ask of him, that was at the end of the line. The things he wanted to do were far from praying. He was waiting for a request for sex, cuddling time, or Pocky. And since they were well stocked on the Pocky, Yuki assumed it was one of the other two. Assumptions were proving to be useless when it came to Shuichi.

    "Pray?"

    "Yeah."

    "What do you want me to pray for? Good sex?"

    Shuichi slapped him playfully on the arm, face turning a bright red. "No, silly, for my CD player."

    Yuki glowered at the man draped over his form as he ceased his typing. "You can't be serious."

    "You're the one that suggested it. I think it could work. Maybe it's possessed." Shuichi pulled himself back so he wasn't completely resting on Yuki's back and pulled the offending object out of his pocket. He shook it in front of Yuki's face. "You could do an exorcism and then maybe it'll like me again and we'll be able to play happily."

    Yuki shuddered at the thought. He imagined Shuichi skipping in slow motion though a field of sunflowers with the blue circular object in hand.

    "I could light some candles and you could wear your monk robe, all black…and long…and sexy and…"

    "Shuichi?"

    "Eh?" He was jogged out of his interesting sexual escapades with a tall blond monk by the man himself, but Yuki wasn't smiling.

    "Do you seriously think that I would do that? It's a toy."

    "But-"

    "Call Tatsuha if you need an exorcism. I'm sure he'd be up for it, just give him a few of Ryuichi's hairs and you're set." Yuki hastily cut off his young lover and pushed him away, suddenly stricken with a need for space.

    Shuichi cringed at the idea of hair-bribing, he'd done it once before and began to question if Yuki was aware of that fact. He shook his head of the thought and focused on the task at hand. "But, it'd take hours for Tatsuha to get here and I have work I have to get done now!"

    "Not my problem." Typing filled the room once again.

    "I know!" Shuichi slid onto his knees so he could eye his lover as he typed. "I could use your laptop. You have a disc drive. I could plug my headphones in the side and you wouldn't have to listen to it, either."

    "I have to work on my laptop. I have a job too, remember? Why don't you try to hook your headphones in the big stereo in the living room?"

    "I tried, none of the plugs fit right." Shuichi sighed. "Are you sure I can't…?"

    "No."

    "No, you're not sure?" Shuichi teased placing his hand on Yuki's knee.

    "No, you can't use it. Now go away." Yuki leaned back into his chair stretching his limbs. "You're destroying my creativity, which means I can't finish my novel, which in turn leaves me without a job, which means Touma will be pissed and drop you from the label for incompetence and I'll kick you out since I won't have any money to feed you, and wouldn't care anyways, therefore..." Yuki concluded his nonchalant statement with a hard glare and a stiff, "Get out."

    Shuichi recoiled and silently left the room, shutting the door behind him. Yuki thought he heard Shuichi mumble something under his breath, something that made Yuki mentally berate himself.

    "I hate you."

    Yuki needed a cigarette.

    After destroying another perfectly good romance, Yuki sat back and examined his work. It had been almost an hour since Shuichi made his confession of utter hatred and Yuki had been cursed with silence every minute afterwards. Even though Yuki usually craved the silence, he was getting anxious.

    Blinking in a constant rhythm, the cursor enticed Yuki to continue his work, but what else was there? The heroine had already been crushed by her own ego and the hero lay battered and broken on the crimson-stained concrete. He looked to his black mug for inspiration and toke a large swallow. He then pulled the last cigarette out of the pack on the desk. He'd had half a pack left when he entered the room earlier in the day. Now, he sucked the last stick dry until it was nothing but ash while admiring the fine architecture of his ceiling. He computer screen turned black as he stabbed out the drained filter into the glass ashtray on the desk.

    The next thing he saw was Shuichi's smiling face, eyes gleaming brightly as he posed in front of the NG building. Both his feet were on the top of a small pillar, barely able to keep his balance. He leaned on Hiro's shoulder with his left hand for support, and with his right hand made a 'V' sign. Fujisaki stood on the other side of Hiro smiling slightly. Shuichi must have jumped on his computer when he wasn't looking the other day and set up the slide show screensaver.

    A new image flipped up. It was an image of Yuki and Shuichi but Yuki did not recognize it. Of course, he wouldn't remember a picture snapped when he was buried in a pile of blankets on his bed, hibernating. Shuichi had used the timer on the camera and strategically placed in on the bedside table so that it could catch the author at his most vulnerable. His face barely peeked out of the top of the dark blue comforter as Shuichi leaned over his sleeping form planting a soft kiss on Yuki's cheek. Then Shuichi sat at the table with a sheepish look, drinking a steaming cup of coffee. Tatsuha appeared next, bouncing Kumagoro on his knee while Sakuma Ryuichi looked on playfully.

    Yuki reached for the keyboard but stopped short when the next picture popped up. It was from the same photo shoot as the first image he'd seen, but this time it was Shuichi by himself. He wore a simple black t-shirt with the word 'Lucky' written in big white letters on the front and blue jeans with barely visible sandaled feet peeking out. It was odd to see him wearing such casual clothing, especially since Shuichi wasn't one to wear jeans in the first place. He sat in the grass on a slightly inclined hill, arms loosely slung over raised knees, staring off into the distance. Yuki thought the image had to have been shot without Shuichi's knowledge at the time. Vibrant pink fluttered wildly in the wind, struggling to escape the black baseball cap that held it prisoner. He wasn't smiling. He wasn't frowning. He was too lost in thought to care about appearances. That's what made the image so beautiful. His eyes were the only thing that betrayed his stoic appearance, revealing his soul to the world. Later, he would tell Yuki that he was thinking of him when they snapped that photo. Yuki had scoffed at the time, calling him an idiot. The image shifted again and Yuki hit the spacebar causing his words to pop up once again. But Shuichi was still there, staring up at him from the corner of the screen. Why did he put the print club picture there? It was the closest space to the 'Esc' key, that's why. Yuki smirked at his stupid sentimentality.

    'Maybe I was a bit harsh. He would've left with a simple 'get out'.' Yuki rubbed his sore eyes, snatched up his mug, and downed the cold stagnant liquid in one gulp. Glaring at the residue resting in a small heap on the bottom of his mug, Yuki muttered, 'I need another drink…and some more cigarettes.' Remembering there was a carton in the living room by the television, he quickly discarded the empty pack and pushed back in his seat.

    Yuki's feet padded across the hard wood at a purposeful pace. He would get his coffee and cigarettes and once again retreat to his sanctuary, free from distractions. If he ran into Shuichi…The soft thud of his feet on wood turned into an odd crumpling noise. He was walking all over Shuichi, literally. In the moonlight filtering through the window he could see a hint of pink poke out from under his toes. He had forgotten completely about the disarray of his living room and the magazines strewn over the floor. A sudden intake of breathe caused Yuki to turn his attention to the figure huddled in the corner of the dark room.

    "How can I be calm? Yuki hates me." Shuichi struggled to maintain his voice in a near whisper as he squeaked into the cell phone in his hand. He had situated himself with his back against the side of the couch, leaning into the tofu wall for support. Thankfully, he hadn't noticed Yuki's presence. Unsure of what to do next, Yuki stared at his lover, listening in on the conversation.

    "Yes, he does! No, it's all my fault. I…I can't do anything right. No, that won't work. He'll g-get mad." Yuki presumed the young man was talking to Hiro, he was the only one Yuki could think of that would suggest something to piss the writer off.

    "Well, yes, but I don't want to make him any madder." Shuichi rubbed his sore, leaking eyes. "He needs it to be quiet when he works. It's important…and I don't want to 'de-destroy his crea-tiv-i-ity' anymore." The dam which had quickly been erected a few minutes prior shattered. Shuichi choked on his words, burying his head in his small hands to clutch at the strands of hair behind his ears. Yuki cringed as he heard Shuichi struggle with those words.

    Hiro's voice poured through the receiver loud and crisp and Shuichi listened intently to the steady voice, trying desperately to regain his composure.

    Yuki turned his gaze from Shuichi back to the magazine under his foot, glaring at the honesty in Shuichi's eyes the image projected into his brain, silently mocking his resolve.

    Shuichi didn't notice the yellow blur slowly pass him by. He didn't smell the coffee brewing in the maker. He didn't hear Yuki disregard the freshly made beverage and get out the hard liquor to mix a drink. He didn't taste the salty tears cascading over his broken lips. He didn't feel the cold air of the air conditioner as it clicked on to perform its duties. Yuki passed him again. The carton of cigarettes remained untouched on the entertainment center and everything, including Hiro's voice, was brought down to a dull roar. His senses shut down, rendering him vulnerable to the emotions that refused to release their captor.

    "Hiro, I-I told him I h-hate him. How, How could I say that," Shuichi breathed before the phone slipped from his meager hold and struck the floor with a dull thump.

    "What? Shuichi, what'd you say? I couldn't hear you? Did you drop the phone? Shuichi? Shuichi? Answer me, damn it! Fine, I'm coming over." The line went dead and the display flicked on with the words 'Call Ended.' The eerie blue illuminated Shuichi's shaking form like a stage light from the icy ground, until it slowly faded, leaving him cold and alone once again.

    Yuki settled back into his chair, took a gulp out of his tumbler and stared at his laptop, unable to focus. He switched to his web browser, in search of something to possibly drown out the silence that surrounded his, and his lovers, quiet forms.

    "Thanks for last night, Hiro," Shuichi smiled at the taller man as they walked the halls of NG.

    "No problem. I just wish you would've let me yell at that bastard." Hiro grumpily replied. After an hour of hugging his friend and reassuring him that he wasn't an idiot, Hiro still had to practically carry the singer to his apartment the night prior.

    "Hiro! I told you, it wasn't his fault." Hiro glared sideways at the boy. "Well, not _entirely_ his fault." Shuichi amended.

    "Whose fault was it then?" Hiro questioned.

    Yanking the CD player out of his bag, Shuichi pointed at it, declaring proudly, "It was all _its_ fault! This damn thing pissed me off and ruined my entire night."

    "Well, it's okay now. We got to work on it at my place, anyways. No worries." They approached Sound Studio 3. "And another thing, you know, Fujisaki and I aren't that obsessed with deadlines that we'd kill you or anything if you didn't get it done on time. We get that you live with an irritating asshole, so- Ouch!" Shuichi hit Hiro's arm with his backpack, eliciting a chuckle from the attackee. "Oh, come on, you know he is."

    Shuichi attempted to growl in anger, but it only came out as a whimper, causing the hall to ring with laughter. "I know you guys are okay with that. I mean, yes, I don't want to miss a deadline. I want to prove that I can do it, but it was more than that." Shuichi stared at the object in his hand. "I've had this thing for a long time. Since before I met Yuki. It helped me get through boring classes in high school and long car trips to Kyoto. You know, Yuki likes classical, which is great, but sometimes I need to work, and we conflict and this little guy here…He always solved the problem in a snap."

    "Hmm, but didn't he cause it this time?"

    "Did who cause what problem?" Shuichi and Hiro turned to find Fujisaki standing behind them, folder in hand.

    "Oh, my CD player." Shuichi lifted it up for Fujisaki to see.

    "But you said 'he,'" Fujisaki commented.

    "Oh, yeah, well, I've always thought of this guy as my little buddy, so I named him Coby, kind of like Cobalt, cause it's a sort of a blue color, and so since Coby sounds like a guy's name, I sometimes call him a he by accident."

    "You named you're walkman?" Fujisaki didn't wait for an answer and opted to leave the subject at that as he left them in the hall. He knew the answer was yes. He'd just heard Shuichi say it, but it was still wrong.

    "Good morning!" K called brightly from a chair just inside the studio, "What are you guy's standing there for? You have work to do."

    Shuichi held Coby to his chest and smiled thoughtfully, "Yeah, maybe it will be a good morning."

    "Yuki! I'm home!" Shuichi called out of habit. After the intense day at the studio, Shuichi had completely forgotten about the previous night. Only now, when he stood in the doorway, did he remember. He removed his shoes and glanced around the apartment. Yuki wasn't in his office or in the living room and the bedroom door was shut.

    "I wonder how late he was up," Shuichi thought out loud.

    After getting a juice out of the fridge, Shuichi started going through the exorbitant amount of mail piled on the countertop, doing the usual sorting ritual.

    Yuki, Yuki, Bill, Bill, Shuichi, Fan Mail, Fan Mail, Stalker letter, Yuki, Fan Mail, Yuki, Bill, Shuichi, Fan Mail, Bill, Credit Card Offer, an Invitation to a Promotional party for NG, and a small box, measuring no more than 8 inches in any direction, addressed to one Shindou Shuichi, sender unknown.

    Shuichi eyed the package warily. He wasn't expecting anything from his parents and they would've put the return address on it so he'd know who it was from. But here, the spot where the sender would write the information was blank. Why would someone…

    Yuki was having a shitty day. To start with, Yuki had awoken after a restless sleep to an empty bed. It wasn't a pleasant feeling and it was compounded by a constant throb in his temple courteous of Jim Beam. He had gotten up, showered, delivered his latest installment of his novel to Mizuki, ran a couple more errands, and collapsed back onto his bed at 3 in the afternoon. Sleep had finally claimed his aching mind bringing about a few moments peace, until his door flung open, almost ripping off the hinges and Shuichi pounced on top of him grasping a small box in his trembling hands.

    "Yuki! Yuki!"

    Yuki, who was currently laying on his back, attempted to curl onto his side, only to find his movements restricted by pale legs on either side. His eyes reluctantly fluttered open and attempted to glare at the blurry pink fuzz ball hovering over his tired form.

    "What is it?" Yuki strained to get the words out as his eyes began to focus.

    "Yuki! I got this package in the mail, and why did you bring it in the house? It's not marked! We don't know who sent it! It could be from a crazed fan or a bitter rival or some religious fanatic, or-"

    "What?" Yuki cut off the seemingly speed-induced ramblings of his lover. "Repeat that again? A religious rival?"

    "Yuki!" Shuichi dragged his name out in that long whining tone that Yuki knew so well. "Why did you bring this into the apartment?"

    "Why? Because it's mail. That's why." Yuki gently shoved his lover to the side and reached for his cigarettes on the bedside table.

    "But, there's no return address. SEE!" Shuichi did a rapid finger flick at the blank spot. "What if it's a bomb or something?"

    "It's not." Yuki grabbed his lighter.

    Shuichi ceased his near-hyperventilation freak out and raised a curious brow. "It's not?"

    "No."

    "How do you know?"

    "I'm psychic, remember?" A billow of smoke invaded the waiting air. "Because, who'd waste the money to make a bomb just to kill _you_. The result wouldn't be worth the effort."

    "Oh. Wait, are you saying I'm not good enough to kill?" Shuichi didn't know whether to scream at the man for implying he was worthless or smile at Yuki's obviously veiled attempt at reassurance.

    "I'm saying, who would want to?"

    "Lots of people."

    "Who, those crazed fans or whatever you were rambling about?" Shuichi nodded. "No one is trying to kill you. Just open the damn box so I can go back to sleep."

    "Oh, okay." Shuichi slowly pulled up the packing tape.

    "But go open it in the other room in case it explodes." Yuki exhaled smoke and almost laughed when Shuichi squeaked like a chipmunk and instinctively pulled away from the box. "I was only kidding. You want me to open it?"

    Shuichi thrust the box at Yuki, who in turn, quickly stripped the box of its tape, pulled back the flaps and handed it back to Shuichi. "See, nothing popped out or blew up. Now take it and let me sleep."

    "Ok, I wonder what it is." Shuichi hopped to the door and after stealing one last glance at Yuki turning over to bury his smirking face in a pillow, slid to the center of the living room, and knelt over the box. After staring at it meekly for a moment, he eagerly pulled out the Styrofoam to reveal another smaller box inside which held home to a brand new lilac colored CD player complete with headphones.

    "What is it?" Yuki lazily trudged his way towards the entertainment center, opposite the couch, not even glancing at the ecstatic man admiring his new toy.

    "It's a new CD player!"

    "Oh, well, that's good. You needed one of those, right?" Yuki scanned the top of the black lacquer until his eyes set on the fresh pack of cigarettes begging to be opened. He snatched them up greedily and reversed his course back to the comfort of his bed. "Oh, and Shuichi, pick up this mess," he motioned towards the magazines still littering the floor.

    "Yuki, did you-"

    "I'm going to sleep."

    "But Yuki, is this from-" Shuichi chased after Yuki down the hallway.

    "Leave me alone. I'm going to sleep."

    Yuki crawled onto the bed and wrapped the large dark blue comforter up to his chin. Shuichi admired his lover as he tried to get comfortable on the large mattress.

    "I'll be right back!" Shuichi exclaimed and ran to get his backpack. He still had the new CD player in is clutches as he pulled Coby out of the bag.

    "Don't come back! I'm going to sleep."

    "Oh, be quiet, you grumpy old man!" Shuichi screamed back.

    "What did you call me?!"

    "This is great Yuki! The models are almost identical with a few changes." Shuichi ignored his lover's question and pulled out the user's manual for the new player. "Wow, it has a special sound system where you can listen to a song with a 'live' setting so it sounds like you're at a concert. And the display is much bigger. Oh, and it even has a Hold button…" Shuichi dropped the manual and stared at Coby in utter shock. He carefully lifted the object which had caused so much pain and conflict over the past two days and turned it to the side. There, the hold bar mocked him, slid into perfect position, resisting any attempt made to let the machinery play. He emitted a loud yelp and his eye couldn't suppress a twitch at the sight in front of him.

    "What?" Yuki yelled.

    "Nothing!" Shuichi placed the players on the coffee table and bounced into the bedroom, flipping the comforter up and snuggling into the side of the exhausted writer.

    "I thought I told you not to come back." Contrary to Yuki's words, he wrapped one are arm around Shuichi and rearranged himself to make the younger man comfortable.

    "Yuki?"

    "Hm?"

    "Thank you for the CD player."

    "Who says I bought that thing?" Yuki muttered and as sleep began to claim him he heard the soft voice of his lover muffled through the blankets and clothing.

    "I love you…you jerk." Silence reigned for a moment, the way Yuki liked it. "Yuki?"

    "What?"

    "Could you…"

    "No praying."

    "…kiss me?"

* * *

This was my first Gravitation fan fiction and I don't know if I'll ever write another one.(EDIT: Yes, I will be writing a few more. They won't leave my evil little brain. Grrr) To tell you the truth, I was pretty scared to tamper with brilliance, so I hope I did the manga justice. The storyline was brought about by the evil behavior of my own powder blue atrocity. The damn thing is having a bigger issue than the 'hold' button though. It's making grating noises when I try to play anything and sometimes won't play at all. I got so angry at the thing, I wanted to throw it against the wall but I opted to throw my anger on paper and then it transformed into this. Weird, huh? Any Reviews are appreciated. It's always nice to hear from readers and see what I can work on or what was liked. Oh, and also, so everyone knows. The hair stealing incident referred to was in the third manga. Thanks for reading! 

I can also be found on AFF and on MediaMiner with stories co-written with my Nee-chan under the name Flaming Duck, though none of them are entirely Gravitation, there are oodles of scary references. Heehee.


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